Endlessly
by Heart Iconography
Summary: The summer seemed to burn endlessly like a montage of sunsets, one bleeding into the next, a vast sea of orange and pink and gold - and him always next to her. (The Notebook-esque inspired AU)
1. Chapter 1

**AN: _Why do I keep starting stories and not finishing any of my other ones? Why do you all put up with me? Anyway, this one is AU, which I've never really tried my hand at, so I'm sorry if it sucks. And it will be kind of inspired by The Notebook (due to a post I saw on Tumblr by sammxhill!) though it won't follow the plot exactly..._**

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><p>The summer seemed to burn endlessly like a montage of sunsets, one bleeding into the next, a vast sea of orange and pink and gold - and him always next to her. Those two months, so short, stretched on for centuries. She supposed that was the way it was with love. They sat under the trees, or on a blanket in the field away from the farm and her family. It was all so long ago, but still, she could remember it as though no time had passed at all - as though she was waking up on the first day, looking into his eyes...<p>

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><p><em>"Son, you've got no experience," Hershel said to the man standing in front of him. <em>

_One of the Dixon boys - nothing but trouble. The whole town knew about the family; the father was an abusive drunk on his best days, and the older brother wasn't much better, but Daryl... he was neither here nor there. He followed Merle around, and took up his scrapes, but kept Daryl kept his mouth shut and his drinking to a minimum. _

_"Spent most of my life outside," Daryl said, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck. "I'm strong. I know people think I ain't too smart, but I pick up fast, and I'll work hard."_

_Hershel held the resume in his hand. He hadn't spared it too much of a look - not only was it handwritten, but it was sparse. He had heard about the Dixon brothers running scams for cash, even whispers about peddling drugs. Hershel didn't know how much of what was said was the truth, so he tried to put it out of his mind. _

_"How did you even hear we were hiring?" Hershel asked. "We hadn't even got an ad up yet in the paper." _

_"I heard it 'round town," Daryl said, meeting the older man's eyes. "I was stoppin' in to pick up some stuff at the auto-shop for my bike, and Dale told me." _

_"You know Dale?" Hershel asked. _

_"Work for him sometimes," Daryl said. "Hours ain't much though. I got him down as a reference. He'll tell ya that I'm a good hire." _

_"Listen, son, I'm not sure -" _

_"I ain't," Daryl interrupted, clenching his fists, "- I mean, I'm trying not to be... I know what y'all think of my family. I'm tryin' to start again, on my own. Got my own place. Ain't much - four walls, barely a roof - leaks like hell when it rains. But it's mine. Y'know? Ain't never had anythin' that was just... mine. And I need the cash to keep it. To keep this goin'. And y'don't gotta hire me - I know I ain't ever been a farm hand, or whatever ya call it - but I don't deserve to be turned away cause of things ya've heard 'bout me." _

_Hershel looked at the younger man; Daryl's eyes were bright and sharp with determination, but red flagged his cheeks, coloured his ears. He had a feeling it wasn't the first time Daryl had been made to give this speech. He felt a sharp pinch of sympathy for the boy. _

_"I'll tell you what," Hershel said, going against his better judgement, "I'll give Dale a call, and if he confirms what you've told me, that you'll work hard and show up on time, then I'll start you on a trial basis."_

_"I appreciate that," Daryl said. "All I need is a chance. You'll see. I'll show ya I deserve the job."_

_Hershel walked from the porch steps up to the door. He called for his daughter, Beth, to bring him the telephone. A soft voice shouted back and then there was movement that could be heard and a sudden appearance of a blonde girl peeking out past the screen door. _

_"Here's the phone, Daddy," she said, holding out an old, clunky wireless that was about as big as her hand. She looked past her father at the man standing there, staring at his feet. "Who's your guest?"_

_"That's Daryl Dixon," he said, dialing the number. "He's applying for the open position - Hello, may I speak to Dale, please?" _

_Beth stepped around her father, seeing that he was busy. She hopped down the stairs gracefully, the heel of her cowboy boots making a satisfying thud when she landed. Daryl looked up at her suddenly, blue eyes taking in every detail of her face. She felt herself blush. _

_"Hey," she said, sticking her hand out, "I'm Beth." _

_"Know who y'are," he said, shaking her hand. Beth noticed how much larger his was, enveloping her own firmly and wholly. _

_"Oh, cause Daddy said somethin'?" she asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. _

_"Naw," Daryl said. "Been into the store a couple times. Saw ya workin'." _

_"Oh, guess you would've been to the grocery store," she laughed. "After all, y'gotta eat, right? The aprons there are terrible though. Serious eye-sores. All those different plaids clashing." _

_"I dunno," Daryl said. "Didn't think it looked too bad on ya - I mean, in general. It ain't bad in general, so it wouldn't look bad on ya... or anyone there..." _

_"Well, I hope you get the job," Beth said, trying not to smile at his fumbling for fear of making him feel awkward. "Everyone else teases me when I go to work wearin' it. Anyway, I gotta get back inside. Got a pie baking for after dinner. It was nice to meet you, Daryl. Come through my checkout next time, alright?" _

_"Yeah," he said looking at her quizzically, "you got it." _

_Beth climbed back up the stairs and rested a hand on her father's arm before passing back inside, not looking back. Daryl turned his gaze to Hershel, who was laughing softly into the phone. A good sign? Then farewells were exchanged and he was walking over, looking Daryl in the eye. He tried to keep himself from looking away - which was always Daryl's first instinct when met with direct eye contact. _

_"Well, son, looks like you're starting tomorrow," Hershel said. "Dale didn't have a bad word to say against you, other than he wishes you'd get yourself to auto-mechanic school so he could promote you to full-time."_

_"Yeah," Daryl said, shifting on his feet. He didn't tell Hershel that he was planning on going back to school, when he could afford it, and that this second job was a huge step towards exactly that. He hadn't told Dale either. He was afraid of telling people and then not being able to afford to go, or worse, failing when he did manage to get there. "I'll be here tomorrow at...?" _

_"Four a.m.," Hershel said. "Usually you won't come in until six, but we got some training to do together." _

_"You got it," Daryl said, unwilling to complain. _

_On his drive home, he couldn't stop himself from thinking about Beth. Maybe it was the big, yellow sun reminding him of her hair. Daryl had always noticed the girl around. She had such a big smile for every person she met. And one time, when he had come into the store beat up to hell from his father, unable to pay for most of his groceries because Merle had pocketed half Daryl's cash for drugs, she had bagged them anyway, telling him not to worry about it. It had been years ago - she probably didn't remember. Daryl had tried to refuse the help, but when she looked at them with those big, blue eye, he saw no pity and took the bags before he could change his mind. Daryl had been able to eat that week because of her kindness, and he had never forgotten it. In fact, he had been banking on that kindness being genetic when he had convinced himself to show up at the farm house, begging for the job. _

_It stung his pride, but at least he was free... at least he was his own man... at least he wasn't what or where he used to be... anything was better. _


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: _Thank you all for the reviews and support, as always. I'm quite enjoying this whole AU thing - getting to keep my babies safe from all the walkers..._**

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><p>Beth swiveled in the black chair, trying to calm her nerves, and keep herself from getting tangled up in cords. It had been a whirlwind and she could barely even remember how she ended up in New York - let alone sitting across from Amy, the voice of 95.6 FM. She had always gotten nervous having to talk in front of large groups of people, and the fact that this was radio made no difference. Beth's heart felt like it was going to explode. Then, suddenly, the man behind the glass was pointing to Amy, and it was showtime.<p>

"As promised, I, the great Amy, have brought rising star Beth Greene to appease all the music Gods out there listening today," Amy started smoothly, playfulness coating her voice. "Why don't you go ahead and say hello, Beth?"

"Hi," Beth said, feeling like her voice was a nervous squeak. "It's really great to be here. I always had your station playing on my radio!"

"Well, our station is a big fan of yours, too," Amy said with a genuine smile.

"Thank you. I appreciate that; it's still a little weird hearing that word," Beth said more to herself than Amy, or the listeners.

"What word?" Amy asked. "Fan?"

"Yeah," Beth said with a small laugh. "I'm sure most of you feel I came out of nowhere, which is pretty much true. It still feels like yesterday I was just singing to myself on my Daddy's farm."

"Or maybe singing to a certain someone?" Amy asked.

"Maybe," Beth said, trying to keep her voice from going tight.

"Your big hit, 365 Letters, how much of that is true?"

"What do you mean?" Beth asked.

"Well, was there a guy?" Amy laughed and then continued, "of course there was, there always is - am I right? But the rest of it - the breakup, the heartache, the letters... it sounds like it comes from a place of truth."

"Yeah, it does," Beth said.

"And are there - are there three hundred and sixty-five letters out there in the world, somewhere, written by you to a certain someone?"

"There are," Beth admitted, wringing her damp hands in her lap.

"And no response?" Amy asked, looking into Beth's eyes.

"No," Beth said, shaking her head, trying to clear the sadness. She cursed herself for even writing the song in the first place.

"Well, mystery man, if you're listening," Amy said, "every guy in America thinks you're an idiot, and every girl... well, we're all out for blood."

"Oh," Beth breathed out, "he's a good man. I don't hate him - I never have. I'm sure I never will. The song is about letting go. I put everything into it because it was too heavy to carry around with me anymore. I have to leave that love where it belongs - in my memory."

"Are you sure you're only twenty-two?" Amy asked.

"Yeah," Beth replied, laughing lightly.

"Okay, now let's get you a little more airtime and play that huge hit of yours?"

"Not gonna say no to that!" Beth responded.

Amy introduced the song, then walked Beth out of the station, shaking her hand and thanking her again for coming. Beth stopped in the washroom on her way out, splashing cold water on her face, relieved the whole ordeal was finally over. Fixing her hair in the mirror, she wondered if somewhere, Daryl had been listening - not that it would matter - three hundred and sixty-five letters... all the years that spanned between them... one silly song couldn't change anything.

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><p><em>"Daddy told me you got the job," said a distinctly female voice from inside the stall where he was working. Daryl stopped what he was doing and turned to see the youngest Greene girl standing behind him. She smiled. "Congratulations." <em>

_"Y'just gettin' up now?" Daryl asked, his shift for the day almost over. _

_"Oh, heck, no," Beth laughed. "I wish. I had my own chores to do. We all got our jobs - that's what Daddy says. I'm actually surprised you didn't see me. I was even feeding the chickens earlier today for Maggie. She wasn't feelin' great - at least, that's what she said. And now I got a full shift at the store." _

_"Coulda guessed that from the apron," Daryl said, smirking at her. _

_"Oh, so now you're a wiseguy?" she said. "Alright. I see how it is." _

_"What's the deal with this horse anyway?" he asked her. "It's damn near more skittish than a cat in a room full of rockers." _

_"That's Nellie," Beth said, going up to the horse and petting its nose. The horse, who had been whining and shuffling, stopped moving instantly, relaxing at her touch. "She's my baby, aren't you, Nellie?" _

_"Nellie as in nervous?" he asked, laughing softly to himself. _

_"Yeah," Beth said. "Not the most original, I know. Daddy took me to pick a horse... this one... she wasn't exactly for sale. They were trying to rehabilitate Nellie after being rescued from a bad owner. I just... you know... she needed my love the most, so I begged my Daddy to wait until we could take her home. Took a long while... sucked being horseless, but she's such a good girl."_

_"Ya wouldn't of rather had a different horse?" Daryl asked, eyes narrowed on her. _

_"No," Beth said, still petting the horse, giving Nellie all of her attention. "She's perfect. Nerves and all." _

_"Don't seem too nervous 'round you," he pointed out. _

_"Well, I gained her trust," Beth said, turning to him with a smile. "You will too, if you're around her long enough. And maybe bring some sugar cubes. Nellie here isn't above a bribe, are ya, girl?"_

_"I'll have to remember that," Daryl said. _

_"Oh shoot," Beth said, checking her watch. "I gotta get going. Otherwise I'm wearing the apron for nothing!" _

_Daryl watched as she rushed past him, a slim figure in tight jeans and cowboy boots. He was still staring when she stopped at the door and turned to look at him. Her hand was in the front pocket of her apron and she pulled something out, walking back over quickly. _

_"Sugar cubes!" she said with a laugh. "I completely forgot. I usually give her a treat before work! Put your hand out. You can do it this time." _

_Once his hand was out, Beth slipped the cubes into it, fingers brushing his skin. He felt his ears turning red and cursed at himself. She didn't seem to notice, just turned and walked back to the door. _

_"Oh, and Daryl?" she called. _

_"What?"_

_"You're doing a great job," Beth said. When he scoffed and shook his head, she insisted, "honest. Even Daddy was sayin' so to me earlier! Now stop trying to make me late for work!" _

_"Go on, then!" he laughed, rolling his eyes as though she was crazy. _

_"I'll see ya tomorrow, Mr. Dixon," she teased, taking off before he could even think of a response. _


	3. Chapter 3

_"You're still here, huh?"_

_Daryl turned away from his truck and towards Beth. She was walking down the driveway, apron clenched loosely in her fist. The strings of it were dragging on the ground, limp and white. He gave her a small smile, nodding his head in her direction. _

_"Your old man kept me late so I wouldn't have to come in so damn early again," he explained. _

_"Not that six a.m. isn't early," Beth added, biting her bottom lip to stop from smiling. _

_"Ain't that the truth," he agreed. _

_She came up next to him and leaned against his truck. He noticed the pop of her hip - its gentle curve. The peek of skin above her jeans and shirt, lily white and soft - at least he imagined it was. And here he was, covered in sweat and smelling like horseshit, thinking things a man his age oughta not be thinking about a girl hers. _

_"Think you'll be coming back then?" Beth asked. _

_"Yeah, 'course," Daryl said back. _

_"A lot of people don't realize how much work it actually involves - the farm, that is. Daddy hires a lot of people for one day. Drives him crazy, he hates it, and every time someone quits I have to hear the whole 'your generation' speech, which drives me nuts." _

_"Well, I ain't your generation," Daryl snapped at her. _

_"Yeah, you're just about ancient," she huffed, rolling her eyes. "Don't be stupid." _

_"I ain't stupid, girl," he defended, his anger bubbling just below the surface. Daryl had heard that word lobbied in his direction one too many times in his life.. _

_"You don't have to be stupid to act stupid," Beth said. "I could tell you a story about the time I knocked down a green bean display twice in one day, but I'm still smart as a whip. Just got a bit of a green bean blind-spot that day."_

_"What're y'even on about?" Daryl asked. _

_"I don't know," Beth said with a light laugh, not bothered by his attitude. "It was a long shift, and the manager was there, so I couldn't even listen to my music while I was shelving."_

_"Well, a chicken just about bit my finger off," Daryl grumbled. _

_"Yeah, they're pretty nasty sometimes," she said. "Especially when they've laid eggs. The only person who gets anywhere near them without injury is Maggie, and I think that's cause she's the same way with her stuff. I swear, I gotta give her renter's insurance when I borrow her clothes because one time a pen exploded in the pocket of her jeans when I was wearing them."_

_The sun was just setting behind them; the orange glow lit up Beth's hair, turning the gold strands to fire. He thought about the old tales of staring into the flames and seeing your future. Maybe if he looked at Beth long enough he'd see something good... Daryl tried not to think about. She smiled at him. He didn't know what to do with his hands, other than to shove them in his pockets, before they had their own ideas. She waved towards the house and he turned, seeing Hershel standing out on the porch, watching them. _

_"Guess I better go," Beth said, "the warden waits for no one." _

_"I'll see you tomorrow then," he said, hating how it came out sounding like a hopeful question. _

_"There's a very distinct possibility of that," she promised with a teasing smile and took off towards the house. _

_Daryl sat in his truck, work gloves soiled and flung onto the passenger seat. Something about the youngest Greene wouldn't let him go. He found himself thinking of her when he shouldn't - late at night, in his empty apartment. He would imagine her just sitting next to him, maybe laughing. Nothing dirty. Just simple, sweet, and clean. Daryl had wanted something like that his whole damn life._

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><p>Daryl didn't hear his brother the first time over the rushing sound of his heart pounding in his ears. Very suddenly, nothing seemed real. Not the walls, or the floor, or the ceiling. Or Merle's angry voice, getting loud and louder. When a pillow hit Daryl in side of the face, he turned to his brother, almost growling with frustration.<p>

"What the hell do you want?"

"Would ya turn that shit off?" Merle demanded, glaring at Daryl from underneath his arm. "I'm too hungover to listen to some uppity princess bitch singing 'bout her heartbreak."

Daryl only response was to unplug the radio and whip it with all his strength into the wall. His brother didn't react, only rolled over and went back to sleeping on the couch. Daryl stalked out of his apartment in disbelief, stomach in knots. _Beth. _

The song had been about him - it had to have been about him. The interview before only proved it further. _Letters? What the fuck was she talkin' 'bout? _She hadn't tried to write him since they broke it off. She hadn't said a damn word to him, written or otherwise. Daryl kicked the tire of his truck. _Is it just some bullshit story to go with the song? Artistic license, or whatever the shit they call it? _But deep down, he knew Beth wouldn't do that.

Daryl's stomach rocked in his body, lurching and clenching with familiar heartbreak. They both had their reasons for walking away - the fight - it had been both of them. She had been yelling just as much as he was. Maybe he pushed a little harder than she did, but she never... she never said anything!

The lyrics echoed in his head over and over again until his brain hurt. What was she talking about? He checked his god damn mail. Every day. And his phone. Every day. He thought she would come back, maybe that was unfair - he could've opened his big mouth, but his father and brother had been right - Beth didn't belong in their life. But still, it was all he could hear:

_Three hundred and sixty-five letters,_  
><em>I said it all and got no word. <em>  
><em>Three hundred and sixty-five letters,<em>  
><em>won't bring you back but I wish they would. <em>  
><em>Return to sender, oh, why'd you bother,<em>  
><em>I remember every word.<em>


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